Different Person
by Junipertree
Summary: Raoul's drinking problem, twisted, twisted romance... angst... not a good combination. R/R!


OK

OK. This is rather twisted, I'm warning you. Bizarre romance and alcohol abound. You know in Squire it mentions Raoul used to have a drinking problem? Well, you'll see. I'm warning you all, THIS IS VERY TWISTED. Sensitive people stay far, far away – saying any more will give away the fishie. I may do a sequel if I get a VERY good response and a bit more inspiration, but don't count on it. R for violence, alcohol, language, and sex. Not very uppity, is it? PS, I do realize "no shit Sherlock" makes no sense because Raoul doesn't even know who Sherlock is. So I say, who cares?

Disclaimer: You've seen it before, I don't own it. Simple as that.

****

Different Person

Raoul of Goldenlake, Knight Commander of the King's Own put his face in his hands. Knight Commander, King's Own, Giant Killer – hah. Stupid titles. Empty air. It didn't matter now, when he was alone. He sat on his bed in his room, now empty except for himself. Bitch. He hated her. How could she just – leave? Like that? 

__

I'll never forgive you, Burriram Tourakom.

His hands clenched and unclenched convulsively, trying to keep away from the one thing that might be his solace. It was futile. The bottle was right across from him, on the desk. He could see the cool beads of water condensing on the sides of the glass, slowly dripping down to make a ring on the counter. Suddenly his arm shot out, grabbing the bottle. It wouldn't hurt to touch it, just to feel its coolness. No harm would come of that.

Five minutes later he was sitting on the bed, an empty bottle in his hand. Fuck. He wrenched open the second drawer of the desk and pulled out another bottle of ale. He pried off the lid and slowly drank it, feeling the cool liquid slide down his throat, it felt so good, it had been so long…

Soon he had finished off three bottles, and went for something stronger. It burned down his throat, setting his ribcage on fire. It was his friend. It stayed with him when Buri left. Bitch. His vision was starting to blur, and Raoul knew that if he opened his mouth he'd slur his words. This feeling was new and familiar at the same time, the feeling of disorientation, giddiness. But he was too angry to feel giddy this time – right now he wanted to hit something.

Raoul surged off his feet and swung his arm around, breaking the lamp by his bed, smashing it to pieces. He roared, destroying everything in the room, and each object had Buri's face.

__

I hate you, bitch! I wish I had the guts to kill you!

Buri's voice echoed back to him. _Fool! It's killing you, Raoul! You're falling right back into the place you were fifteen years ago! _

I don't need your advice, you whore! Leave me alone! He yelled to the shadow of his ex-lover in front of him.

Raoul collapsed on the floor, sobbing. That was why she left him. Drinking wasn't an escape. It was a prison.

"Raoul?" A knock came on the door, and Gareth of Naxen softly opened it to see his friend dead drunk on the floor.

"Piss off!" Raoul yelled.

"Why should I piss off, Raoul?" Gary yelled back. "You've been drinking again – I'm fucking worried about you, you bastard!"

"I don't need your help, desk-boy!" Raoul rushed towards Gary and punched his friend in the nose. Blood spurted from Gary's face onto his tunic, dripping through his fingers. On reflex, Gary punched Raoul back, blacking both eyes. Gods he didn't want to hurt Raoul, just get him unconscious…

Raoul growled and went into fighting stance when Alanna burst into the room. Her eyes were bloodshot and she looked like she'd been crying. She saw the position her friends were in, and Raoul's condition, and froze.

"Gary, get out." She said in a low voice.

Gary looked skeptical. "Alanna-"

"Get out. I can deal with this myself." Gary knew better than to argue with Alanna in this mood. Slowly he straightened and backed out of the room. Alanna slammed the door behind him.

"Raoul," she began.

"Yeah, yeah, I know why you're here," Raoul said. "I'm a bad, bad man." His voice cracked.

"Buri told me."

"She had no right to, the bitch!" Right then Raoul would've broken something, but he'd already broken everything in the room.

"She left you because you started drinking again."

Raoul snorted. "Is that what you came to tell me? No shit, Sherlock. I think I found that part out myself." His bitterness and sarcasm made Alanna wince. He walked up to her until he was just inches from her. Alanna could smell his hot breath, smelling of ale, and the rich musk of his sweat.

"Raoul-" He cut her off with a firm, passionate kiss.

Alanna pushed him off. "What the fuck, Raoul-"

"What are you afraid of, Alanna?" he asked, approaching some more. "Afraid you might… like it?"

Alanna winced again, and Raoul knew he'd hit a nerve. "We all know about you problems with thief-boy, there."

"Don't talk about George. Please." Alanna looked away.

"We know, Alanna. Alianne ran away, Thom's been doing drugs, Alan's doing badly as a page- he's useless as a fighter. Your duties and George's keep you away from home, I bet you haven't seen him in months. Your life is falling apart, Alanna."

Her head was spinning. Gods, if only he wasn't right – her legs buckled, but Raoul's strong arms caught her, held her. As she wept in his tunic she just thought how comforting it was to be held, his warmth surrounding her. Then she was kissing him again, and he was leading her over to the bed. Somehow they got each other's clothes off, and she felt herself feeling like she'd never felt for George. Gods, this was ecstasy – 

As they lay entwined in the blankets, the only words on Alanna's lips were "I love you, Raoul."

_______________________________________________________________________ 

OMG I can't believe I did that. I'm actually an Alanna/Gary fan. But PLEEEEEEZ DON"T FLAME!! I'm beggin' ya! Review!


End file.
